Monday, April 27, 2020

Mussolini: His Part In My Downfall  (War Memoirs, #4)Mussolini: His Part In My Downfall by Spike Milligan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

As a former Signaller attached to the artillery in the Canadian Forces I had a heightened interest in this book owing to my love of history and the author’s related experience as a Signaller with the British Army 56th Heavy Regiment during WWII.

I was inspired to pick up this book after listening to the audio book for the first installment in the memoir series entitled “Adolf Hitler: My part in his downfall”; a hilarious diary account narrated by author Spike Milligan. The audio book covers his enlistment into the British Army and basic training in England prior to his deployment to North Africa.

This review of the hard copy “Mussolini: His part in my downfall” is the third book of the series picking up in Italy during the 1943 Allied campaign to defeat the occupying Jerries (aka Nazis) in the “drive up the boot”. Both books provided courtesy of the Toronto Public Library.

As an army veteran I found a lot of the anecdotal humour relatable when you consider War is a game of mistakes with victory belonging to the side who makes fewer mistakes - poor mediocrity may secure that. Many army cliches are brought to life such as lousy food (curried grass anyone?) and inept leadership (“there was only one way he became an officer, he was baptized one”). One gets the impression Bombardier Milligan was a morale booster among men in an otherwise miserable and bleak existence.

Jokes aside the author conveys the cold hard facts about War as a tragic and horrible exercise of futility. This is exemplified when four Gunners in his battery are burned alive by enemy artillery shells; a preventable tragedy had they not carelessly placed charge boxes next to their dug-outs (shell fire hit the charge boxes which set the camouflage net over the dugout on fire).

The less tragic “downfall” of the author takes place in the closing chapters of the book when he is placed under the command of one Major Jenkins - an inept officer loathed by his men for his callous disregard of human life among other charming qualities.

One of the greatest terrors of war is what you don’t know of the men in command who tell you what to do - where to go and when. What if they are mad - or stupid? What if their fear is greater than yours? Or what if they are brave and crazy - wanting and demanding bravery from you?

Tragedy strikes when Bombardier Milligen is ordered to perform a fool’s errand: carry a heavy radio set and batteries to an Observational Post located at the top of a mountain - while under artillery fire. Narrowly killed by enemy mortar fire, Milligen retreats back to his command post with a wounded leg only to be shouted at and accused of cowardice by the evil Major who later demotes him to Gunner (aka buck private). Thankless job.

Shell shocked from the near death experience, Milligan undergoes a nervous breakdown and develops a stutter speech impediment preventing him from carrying out his duties as an artillery Radio Operator.

Memoirs such as this provide a balanced perspective of the war sometimes missing from “big picture” text books and documentaries. War memoirs like this also remind Peacetime soldiers like me how lucky we are to have been spared the ravages of war due in part to the sacrifices of men like Milligan.

"Lest we forget"

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Monday, March 8, 2010

Toronto the Good...pfft.


Toronto the Good. Come for the clean streets, stay for Sunday Service.


Yep, Toronto the Good . As far as city slogans go it’s a hand-to-glove fit. Reminds one of the old wisecrack about Puritanism being “the haunting fear someone somewhere is having fun.”


Hyperbole you say? There are people in this town who recall a time when the playground swing-sets were locked away from use on Sundays, lest some wayward demon spawn take it upon himself to have fun on the christian sabbath. Repent sinner! Or how about Sunday shopping. When I moved here in 1990 the city had the feel of a Mormon town during a religious holiday each week. Don’t get me started on the liquor laws.


Don’t believe me? Ask any of the 10,000 plus transplanted Montrealers whose 1970’s exodus from the separatist Pharoah Leveque forced them to seek greener pastures in our fair city. The downtrodden and disenfranchised English-speakers from La belle province came in droves, searching for their proverbial Israel. They got Hogtown: a place of peace, order and good government - minus the fun, culture and good bagels.


It might’ve been the New Yorker that labeled Toronto as “like Manhattan, run by the Swiss.” I think that’s what my english prof called a left-handed compliment, might as well be direct and call us “Manhattan Lite”or “Zurich On Steroids.” It’s no wonder we have an inferiority complex, how else do you describe the construction of the world’s largest free standing phallic symbol: a case of overcompensation gone wild.


Toronto the Good. We didn’t get the olympics but didya hear we’re hosting the 2015 Pan-Am Games? No not the commonwealth one, Pan-Am games are for all the countries in North and South America. You might remember Winnipeg hosted it. Twice.


Hey don’t get me wrong, I’m not dumping on my beloved hometown. I’ve come to appreciate it’s restraint and ambivalence towards fun, especially now as I near 40. The protestant soul of this city is a carry over from it’s beginnings as a fledgling outpost of the British Empire, back when the Orange Order parade meant something. Like a chastity belt, Toronto’s cautious and prudent spirit serves as check on sin and debauchery and that’s not such a bad thing when you’re older.


Toronto the Good. Come for the clean streets, stay for the Sunday Service. If it’s fun you’re after go to Montreal.

Toronto Star - Your City My City

I've been following the new Toronto Star series on how to reinvent this town. Many creative and thought provoking ideas from the bloggers they're showcasing. But some of the ideas & commentary is off the mark so join me in the coming days as I play armchair critic and share some of my own rants and musings about how to improve this grandiose experiment in urban planning & diversity by the great lake.

"no one ever built a monument to a critic."